On the Joy of Baseball Day Games and Click Clack 05/06/22

So many things we used to play with as children have now been reconsidered as hazardous. I am reminded of a scene from Mad Men. Sally Draper, daughter of Don and Betty, was having a good time, running around with a plastic, dry cleaning bag over her head. Her mom, Betty Draper, possibly the worst mom in the history of television (June Cleaver she wasn't) calls her daughter over to chastise her. But what comes out of her mouth is “If the clothes that were in that dry cleaning bag are on the floor of my closet, you are going to be one unhappy young lady!” It was with that type of empathy and foresight that the makers of Click Clack must have tapped into when inventing their product. It was two acrylic balls attached at the opposite ends of a piece of string. When you flipped your wrist up and down the balls would click together at the top of their arc and then clack at the bottom. Click, clack, it went faster and faster until, oops, the acrylic balls had a previously undisclosed tendency to shatter, sending shards of sharp acrylic pieces flying through the air. As the saying goes, what could possibly go wrong?

The other comic at the baseball game, that scene actually happened to me. Or something close to that. I went to a midweek afternoon game, my favorite kind, just me and thousands of brightly t-shirted camp kids, and randomly started a conversation with another guy two seats to my right. The seat between us was empty. Somewhere in about the third inning I heard somebody in the row in back of me address his friend by his full name. I recognized the name so I turned around and saw not one, not two, not three, but four guys I used to work with, including the guy who initially hired me. I was happy to see them but mortified that I was there by myself. I wondered what they were thinking, “Poor guy, he has no friends,” so I started talking more to the guy two seats away in my row. I think I fooled them. But when I told this story to John, he came up with the whispered bribe, “If I buy you a hot dog and beer will you pretend to be my friend?” Now in reality, I didn’t quite sink to that level, but I came pretty darn close. Truth is, I plan to go to a couple more midweek afternoon games this summer, so if I sort of know you, do me a favor and sit somewhere else.

Happy Cinco De Mayo and Happy National Cartoonists Day to the best cartoonist I know, and also the one I work with, John Colquhoun.

Andy and John

It All Depends on How You Look at It 11/19/21

True story. It’s funny, but it still was a digital slap in the face. I was getting ready to pay a bill using the Venmo app. Also, I had just gotten a new, upgraded iPhone. Apparently this Venmo app wants to connect with your telephone list so it can properly direct your payments. It’s just some silly algorithm that checks your phone list out and says “You have 287 friends,” or some such blather. The app counts the number of contacts you have and enters it into the appropriate space. Well, since it was a new phone and I hadn’t yet synched up all my contacts, the damn phone came up with a screen saying “You have 0 friends.” Now granted there’s a sane, rational part of me that laughed and thought “They really should come up with a different way to express that. Instead of saying I have zero friends, they could tell me I haven’t yet synched up my phone list to Venmo.” But nooo. They said “You have 0 friends.” So there’s this other part of me (the part that always takes over) that thinks “Oh really? Says who? What about Jimmie and Rich, and Marvin and Peter and Ted and John and Rob? And let’s not forget Ali, Greg, Joanie, Mark, Buzzy and Stuart. Even though they’re family, they count as friends too, don’t they??? How dare you? But it’s just an algorithm, so let’s move on. And it didn’t really affect me at all. Well, maybe just a little.

Our next comic took place at a trip to the eye doctor. Now we know Larry David featured a trip to the eye doctor last Sunday night on Curb Your Enthusiasm, but we thought up our trip to the eye doctor before his ever ran. So there. Anyway, is there anything worse than failing a test? I had a lot of practice at it in high school, but it still doesn’t blunt the humiliation. And how many tests do we take now anyway, except for those ridiculous online quizzes that nobody takes (except for me). Are you good in bed? Apparently not. Rock hard abs, six steps to help anyone create a six pack. Not me. Are you a genius? See how many of these questions you can answer? Not too many. But failing a visit to the eye doctor? That takes the proverbial cake. No matter how hard you squint you can’t make out the difference between a “c” and an “o” on line 4. Here’s a conspiracy theory. I’m convinced they make the type so small on those eye charts so they can sell you a new set of progressive lenses. And our conservative readers can relax. It’s not THAT kind of progressive.

John is back in town from his daughter’s wedding and we are back in gear. We will see you next week with two new comics including one wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving.

Andy and John